The People are Nice

I must say that we have met many kind-hearted people here. Most people are willing and happy to help the retarded foreigners. The staff at the McDonald's are very nice and patient. We point to what we want on a menu. It becomes more challenging when we want to make a special order, like Sprite, no ice. I might get no ice, but a Coke instead. Or I might get a Sprite with ice. On rare occasions I get a dead hooker instead. That's not even close to Sprite, no ice!

Today Sherkhan did laundry. We don't have machines though, so he washed his clothes and then hung them on hangers in our indoor patio/kitchen. He hung a couple of shirts on the outdoor clothes line as well. I hung the shirt that I use as a towel out there too. When we looked out there again, my shirt had fallen down one level and Sherkhan's was nowhere to be found. He started conversing with an elderly lady about the subject. Of course she spoke absolutely no English and we very little Chinese. She understood what he was saying though and the next sound we heard were her heavy feet pounding up the four flights of stairs.

She came into our apartment with a long stick with a metal hook on the end. She tried to grab my shirt, but it was just out of her reach. It was funny because the whole time she's constantly talking to us in Chinese and we're responding in English, nodding like we know what the fuck she's saying. She's reponding like she knows exactly what we're talking about. Meanwhile none of us have a fucking clue. Then we asked her to talk to the people down one flight, but they weren't home. So we asked the people one floor below. The guy takes the stick and next thing I know I got my shirt/towel back!

Then she invited us to her place on the ground floor. We looked in the backyard for Sherkhan's shirt to no avail. The whole time talking to each other in the two different languages.

Next I performed the duties of a wingman. The double date went well, but of course mine didn't speak English too well, but whatever. Whenever we had a chance, Sherkhan would whisper to me some cockeyed plan about saying goodbye to the young women. He wanted to give them both hugs. He asked me to initiate it. But when it came time to say goodbye, Sherkhan lept into action too early. My date went to retrieve her bike, when Sherkhan tried to hug his date. It ended up turning into a thug-like hug. A handshake with one hand and the other arm over the shoulder. Then he went to give the other woman a hung, but she accidently rammed her bike into his crotch. Of course, considering that I'm a normal person, I hugged them both normally.

One last thing. Sherkhan has stolen some phrases from me and not given me credit. The line "it's like we're celebrities without the positive connotation," I said that. That's what that star by that phrase on Mr. Khan's blog (beijingbetty.blogspot.com) means. Another that he thought of using was "Phlem Fatale" to explain the constant spitting that ranks behind basketball and ping-pong and in front of drinking straight vodka as Chinese pastimes. The phrase "shit like money" originated when Sherkhan misunderstood something I said. It should be used yo refer to someone who is arrogant.

The way a Chinese supermarket closes:
The workers run around like chickens with their heads cut off, screaming at people to leave. One yelled "go home! Go home!" at me. Do I really have to go home? Can't I simply leave the grocery store and go somewhere else? It was bizarre.